The Tattered Dreams of an Apostate
by SixLilyPetals
Summary: Anders is an apostate in Tevinter, on the run from the aggressive Templars. His life seemed to be doomed to suffering & poverty until he is presented with a chance to get the education he needs to work in a clinic. The only catch is he has to room with the son of a rich Magister, Fenris of House Vinicius. Politics, family, and seeming the world will try to tear them a part.
1. Chapter 1

Tevinter. The land of opportunity. The shining city on the hill that is the epitome of mage independence and accomplishment. Anders pushed through the crushing crowds, foraging ahead against the flow of the masses. All mage refugees, Apostates, rushing to have themselves auctioned off. Anders sneered at the ignorance. He'd been in the city longer than any of these that have fallen off the first truck they could hire to escape the Templars. Each one holding high hopes of being apprenticed to a Magister, eventually working their way to a better life at the top.

Anders accepted years ago that would never happen. Although mages ruled Tevinter, Apostates would be nothing more than lower class. He lived in a shelter that mainly catered to mutilated prostitutes that couldn't charge enough to afford better. The throng of people eventually thinned and Anders could actually see the filthy city streets. Not that they were blemished with litter, quite the opposite, Apostates turned 'servant' kept the city in pristine condition. A beautiful veneer for the corrupt system that ruled the land. He looked back over his shoulder, the sun beginning to peek through the towering forest of buildings and spires.

He shook his head in dismay, _fools._

They would sign on to be a 'servant' releasable once the debt to their 'employer' was paid. Anders never once met a person who'd been able to pay off their debt. Anders had been fortunate to have met with a disenchanted Altus when he first arrived in Tevinter, otherwise he would have been in a similar prison.

Fourteen months ago the Altus had been drunk and gaming with friends in a bar. Having freshly arrived in Tevinter, Anders was eager and excited at the thought of being in an _actual_ city. A far cry from the small townships of the Anderfels.

Like the country bumpkin he was, Anders had wondered through the bar wide-eyed and unknowingly making himself an easy target.

"Oh-ho boys! Look at this fair-haired wonder!" Anders was suddenly surrounded by young men, near his age, but their dark skin claimed them native Tevinters. One man with a perfect face and lavishly styled hair pressed a wide hand over Anders chest appreciatively, his thumb finding and playing with Anders' nipple. "Are you looking for some entertainment? I know I am."

The man's friends laughed drunkenly and shoved Anders closer. The man was incredibly handsome, winning grey eyes and a perfect beauty mark at the corner of his right eye.

"I-I don't want to cause any trouble. I'm new and looking for work and…"

The group laughed again although, this time less jovially. If darkness had a sound, this was it. "You're in the wrong place, blondie."

A set of fingers pinched his ass. Anders jumped and when he spun around to confront the culprit, he found an arm wrapped around his chest which held a staff that hummed with magic. The crest of the staff was adorned with the twinging necks of three dragons. One of the serpentine heads was tapped lightly against Anders' cheek.

"You look like a good boy. Why don't you do as I say and come upstairs with me?"

Anders tried to protest but his words were drowned out by the gang's enthusiastic jibs. He was pushed and shoved to the point he was certain the men around him were all elbows. His only relief was when he fell to the floor of a room. The handsome man stood at the doorway and shooed away the small crowd with his gold ringed hand. "Don't wait up boys! These wild Apostates tend to have endless energy and I don't plan to waste a drop of it!"

Another wave of laughter and whistles were muted when the door shut. The bolt sliding home formed a lump in Anders' throat. He scrambled forward to curl against the wall. The mage was all confidence and power. Sex smoldered in his eyes as the corner of his mouth crept upward under his perfect moustache. The thin curls at the ends actually gave him a slight villainous look.

Crippling fear washed over Anders. He was only marginally learned in spirit healing and without a staff, he was defenseless against any mage that had an inkling about battle spells. "I'm sorry if I-I've offended, p-please take what little I have. It's not much."

The man stalked up to him then punched his stomach lightly with his staff. "Not very bright are you? You don't have a clue as the quarter you've stumbled into, do you?"

Anders shook his head, wincing at the way the sharp scales of the dragons' heads pricked through his thin clothes. At the response, the mage rolled his eyes as though Anders were the only one in all of Thedas who didn't know.

"I should have thought the finer clothes and gilded _everything_ would have tipped off some backwoods peasant like yourself." With a practiced flourish, the mage pulled his staff away from Anders tender stomach and set it snuggly into the rack provided near the door. "You're in Magister territory. Had I not picked you up, the local guard would have. They like to keep the streets clean, you see."

"But I thought…"

Anders was swiftly cutoff by the man's melodic laugh. "What? That you would simply totter into another country and ~ _poof_ ~ there'd be equitable treatment and a profession waiting for you on a silver platter?" The musical laughter punctuated Anders naiveté. Of course nothing was that easy. "Let me offer you some free advice, you're not likely to get it from anyone else: Don't attach yourself to a Magister and never accept favors. Favors tend to never have an exact price attached to them and if owed to you, they will fall short of any services provided."

The mage's nimble fingers began to work deftly at flicking open all the little buttons and buckles that were a part of his expensive robes. He took his time, meticulously placing each layer on the nearby desk instead of letting them crumple to the floor. Once the man bared his chest, Anders lost his breath.

Quirking a brow at the Apostate, the man queried, "You are attracted to me are you not?"

"I am." The words floated on an exhale, expressing his desire before his brain could register what he'd said.

The mage finished divesting himself of the clothing, threw himself on the bed and then folded his hands behind his head. His semi-hard cock lay deliciously over his abdomen. "Don't worry yourself, there's absolutely nothing the matter with you. I've yet to meet anyone that has found me less than irresistible."

Anders licked his lips at the sight. There was no doubting the man was desirable.

"Suck me off a bit first would you? I am a might drunk and that will help. Then we can move along to the fun stuff, yes?" The man's head fell back into the pillows as Anders crawled up on the bed and nestled himself between the mystery man's legs.

Walking along the city streets, Anders was bitter to recall that was the last time he'd slept in a proper bed. He'd never learned the man's name, as he left shortly after their third round night long ago, but Anders was thankful he'd had been paid for the room before leaving. He had taken the man's advice to heart and managed to avoid the typical traps set to take advantage of people in his position. Through begging and taking on debt, Anders had managed to work his way into the good opinion of a woman who worked for the Department of Education. If things went well today, he might have the chance to get the education and papers he needed to work in a proper clinic.

The sun rose higher, brightening the way ahead. Anders chided himself, he should have left earlier. Breaking into a sprint, his long legs carried him adroitly to a fountain at the edge of the Gilded Quarter. He had to hurry if he wasn't going to be caught. A decorative fountain was a better alternative to the polluted channel in low town. Slipping the bundle of clothing into the clean water, he hastened to remove as much of the grime and foul smells from the hostel that he could. His head bobbed up and down, constantly surveying his surroundings in search of the city guard. At the first sound of footfalls, he didn't take any chances and collected the soaking rags. Resuming his sprint, he returned to the less savory area of town, heading straight to a bakery. The baker's son had recently broken an arm and Anders had healed it in exchange for the end of day waste. Most days there wasn't any, but Anders never complained. Using the back door, he entered and hoped that the baker's wife would be around. She wasn't.

"It's not the day's end, boy." Each day the man's voice grew gruffer, informing Anders that their arrangement was nearing an end.

"I have an interview today, if I could Ser, may I use the ovens to dry my clothes?"

The large man gave a huff as he jerked a thumb towards the main ovens which were scalding hot. As Anders spread his garments out, he made a mental note that this was his last visit to the bakery. Just as the Altus had said, the 'favor' ran out quicker than a payment would have. He checked every seam, even licking his finger and working on a few more smudges while his clothes dried out.

Once the clock struck ten, Anders donned the moist clothing and used his fingers to comb his hair and tie it back with a rubber band he'd salvaged from a dumpster. The metal ovens were polished with great care by the baker's own Apostate servant. Anders checked his appearance, adjusting as best he could and grumbling a bit that he couldn't shave properly.

 _Well, this is as good as it's going to get. Maker have mercy on me._

The entire journey to the education office, Anders was careful not to bump into anyone. He couldn't afford his second-hand attire to look any worse than it already did. In the office he was disheartened to see that a large number of people had turned up for the same grant he wanted. There was even a large Qunari guard at the door that scanned each person's ID, verifying their right to be there. Undeterred, Anders held his head high and confidently accepted his packet, holding his panic at bay until he sat at his assigned desk and began to read through the exam.

A bell chimed to alert all prospects that the allotted time had expired. When Anders glanced at the clock he was shocked to realized he'd been there over eight hours. He was the last in line and noted an odd curiosity as he came closer to the front. Each person submitted their exam with an additional envelope. Anders flipped through the instructions to try and understand what he had missed, but found nothing. He was mildly relieved to see that the administrator at the window was his female acquaintance.

Anders felt his heart skip a beat when she took his papers and offered only a weak smile. "Did I miss something?"

The woman sighed as she read through the front page of his packet, his personal information. "Well, at least you're a mage and not some Soporatti. That might count for something. As for the rest, well…" She waved a hand absently to imply that it would take a miracle from the Maker for him to be among those chosen.

"I don't understand. What else could I have possibly done? I've paid my fees. I've accomplished the pre-requisite studies – on my own! I have no money left. How could I have done any better?" Hopelessness gripped his heart like a vice. He didn't expect much from this world, but he at least wanted the chance to earn a living, even if it were a poor one.

The elderly lady was not entirely unsympathetic. She reached a hand out to pat his. "I know hun, I know. That's why I didn't bother to mention the bribe."

"Bribe?"

"Yes. Those envelopes the others turned in, they're all cash bribes."

The woman called out to Anders as he blindly walked out of the building, mentally exhausted. He ignored her, lost in his own depression. Three steps out of the building the and clouds crackled, then burst into a torrential downpour. Anders glanced upward, letting the fat drops explode over his face for a few moments before he righted himself and began the long walk back to the slums of the city. Soaked through within seconds, he didn't rush the journey, which proved to be a safe choice. The right shoe sloshed heavy with water for about a block before the seams gave out. Anders didn't even bother to curse the misfortune. He simply removed the remnants from his foot and deposited the scraps in a nearby trashcan, afraid of receiving a ticket for littering.

The next block was accomplished with a lopsided gait until he crashed into a mass of muscle. Having been lost to his own thoughts, Anders fell back to land on his ass. Glaring down at him was the guard from the education office holding an oversized black umbrella. The large horns jutting out from his head were probably the cause for the large accessory since they sprawled out past his shoulders like a bull. The Qunari was missing an eye and had white scars that cut across his grey skin. Clearly someone you don't fuck with.

"My apologies Ser. I was clearly in the wrong. Forgive me, Ser." Anders had groveled enough in this wretched country to have found the perfect apology that almost always got him out of trouble.

Tonight, it didn't work. He saw a hand shoot toward him and he flinched.

"Jumpy little shit aren't you? Get off your ass by yourself if you don't want any help." He crossed his arms and waited for Anders to collect himself. "Anders from the Anderfels right? Drew the short straw on names huh?"

Briefly, Anders contemplated running, but decided against it, certain the man would be able to easy chase him down. Maker's breath, what if he sat on him? No, best not to piss off the large Qunari who was missing a fucking eye.

"You do drugs?"

"Is this about the exam?" Now that he wasn't walking, the cold started to whip through his thin clothes and dig into his skin. Shivering, he hunched as he rubbed at his arms. "I don't understand."

"Just answer the questions so you can get out of this freezing piss. You do drugs?"

"No." His hair had come undone and was sticking to his face. Water dripped from his nose.

"You ever make any enemies with the Crows? Any of the lesser gangs for protection?"

"Maker no!"

The man's one eye landed on Anders' bare foot, two toes poked through the tattered sock. "You made it this long with no protection, huh?" He then poked a finger in Anders' chest. "You wouldn't lie to **_me_** would ya?"

Anders was slowly ticking off his developing symptoms from the checklist for hyperthermia. He needed to get out of this cold rain and fast. He shoved the man's hand back at him. "Of course I wouldn't! I don't need protection from the helpless! You haven't seen the desperation in the slums as I have! I provide needed care they wouldn't get otherwise!"

The guard barked with laughter. "You got fire, I'll give ya that." He pulled a card from his pocket. "My boss' boy needs a roommate - smart, clean and not from any of the noble families. Wants to avoid drama. You interested, show up to that address the day before the term starts so you can move in."

Anders looked down at the laminated card. Plain white, simple black font, sans serif. It had to be a joke. When he looked up again, the hulking Qunari was gone. A gust of wind pelted him with a fresh wave of icy rain and Anders had no choice but to make a run for his pitiful refuge three miles away.

There wasn't heat in the building since Tevinter was usually unbearably hot, so he huddled in a corner while staring at the little card.

 _What if he didn't get the grant? What if this roommate turned out to be a nightmare?_

A loud crash jolted Anders from his thoughts and he heard the familiar shouting of one of the prostitutes being robbed. Fighting broke out and Anders rubbed at his forehead, waiting for the headache to form. Another set of voices continued their rhythmic grunts in another room, uncaring of the plight just beyond their door. Across the hall from him was a shabby, burnt out old Templar tying off his arm to inject a dose of lyrium.

 _Whoever this guy is, living with him can't be as bad as this._


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks after the exam, Anders sought out his acquaintance in the education office. Even after the strange encounter in the pouring rain, he was still floored when she informed him that the grant had been awarded to him. On the way home he'd taken the wrong turn four times he was so lost to his own thoughts, blown away that things were going right for a change.

The next month Anders had attempted to insist on some form of payment that could be monetized, if not outright coin from all of his patients. He knew that should he be accepted into the medical program there would be associated costs such as food and texts. However, there were still many cases that he didn't have the heart to press as hard as he should have. He needed the money desperately, but the definition of that word changed for him day to day with the people he met and the stories he heard. There was hope in his future where they had none. He simply couldn't do it.

To reach the address, Anders had to walk by the University campus. If he remembered his intersections correctly, the address was only two miles from the campus, blessfully close enough to not have to rely on public transit. One less expense to worry about. He stared at the towering buildings as he walked past. He would be permitted within those halls. Absentmindedly he clutched the acceptance papers in his pocket, almost hoping someone would challenge his presence in the Professions District. Unfortunately, with it being so early of a morning, few were even walking about to notice him.

He wore the same outfit that he had to he exams. He still looked a beggar even with the addition of his 'new' shoes that he'd taken as payment for repairing a ruptured eardrum, but he did at least look like a clean beggar. Everything he owned fit nicely into an oversized cloak he'd received from another refugee when he'd fled one of many Templar raids. It was a dark forest green color, trimmed with feathers. It was well made and not only handy in holding all of his belongings, but it also served him well when hiding before he crossed the Tevinter border. The coloring blended well into the foliage of the woods and the enchantment built into it dampened his magical aura, making it difficult for Templars to track him. It was the one thing he kept that reminded him of the Anderfels.

As instructed, Anders arrived at the address on the card. He assumed since classes began at eight the following day, the time would apply to his move in date as well. The baby blue house had a small lawn with a brick path connecting it to the sidewalk. Two windows stuck out from the roof line to indicate it had an upstairs. A porch swing swayed in the gentle breeze with the tall weeds that grew from the abandoned planters. Anders felt a tinge of trepidation, as if the empty swing were shooing him away, telling him he didn't belong. Standing alone, his mind exploded into a turmoil of excitement and fear.

A home, safe, private. How long could he stay? When would he be turned away? Clean, running water. Would there be a fan? What if his roommate hated him?

The moment he thought about the reason why he was here, he found the energy to press forward.

 _It can't be that bad, it can't be that bad._

Twenty steps to the stairs. Five steps up to the porch. Four steps to the door.

Anders felt in his pocket and crumpled the acceptance letter with ferocity, before he rang the doorbell. He was somewhat relieved when the door was answered by the Qunari hired muscle from before.

"Punctual. How'd you manage that? Steal a watch?"

"I'm not a thief." Anders stood a good six feet tall, but even he had to look up to meet the man eyes to eye.

He barked a jovial laugh as he clapped Anders on the shoulder. "You need to lighten up Ragamuffin. If you're not flexible enough, either the school or the Tiny Boss'll snap your skinny ass in half."

Anders ground his teeth at the insult, but understood the man meant it as advice. "Does 'Tiny Boss' have a name? He'd better not expect me to call him that."

With an arm like an anaconda, the Qunari tugged Anders close to drag him into the dwelling.

"No, his name is Fenris. Good kid, but tends to get in trouble sometimes." He released Anders and then quickly changed subjects. "C'mon I'll show you around."

The home was already furnished and actually modest by Tevinter standards. Everything was practical with little adornment or gold trim. It was a quick tour, the downstairs had living, dining, kitchen and utility room. Upstairs had two bedrooms and a shared bathroom.

Anders walked slowly into the smaller of the two, taking in the drastic change that was taking over his life. A desk, a short dresser, a bed, and a closet with spare linens. The linens were probably worth more than his entire bundle of belongings. Shifting the makeshift sack from his shoulder, he suddenly remembered the words of the nameless Altus.

"What are the terms of my being here? What _exactly_ is expected of me?"

The Qunari picked at his fingernails as he leaned against the doorframe. "Nothing that's already here belongs to you, so don't fuck it up. You'll have a food allowance since you look ready to blow away. Textbooks and clothes are on you. Any specialty equipment you need, you can share with Tiny Boss."

Anders chuckled. "I'm sure he loves when you call him that."

"Oh fuck no, so I use it all the time. Anyway, what the Boss needs from you is to help Fenris with his coursework. You see, he's not a mage – smart, but can get…frustrated."

"When am I released from this obligation?"

"Whenever the Boss says."

"Then no. I can't." It ripped Anders in half to say it, but there was no way he was going to be indentured.

Shifting his feet, the lackey filled the doorway to block Anders escape. "You think you're going to just walk away from this? Are you Blighted or something?"

"I'm not stupid. I need, in writing, the terms of termination of our accord or I will 'just walk away'."

Faster than he could blink, Anders found a set of hands fisting his shirt and lifting him off the ground. Instinctively he let off a flash-bang burst. It was a spell that was mostly show, typically he used it to scare off basic street thugs. Although the spell produced a significant amount of heat, he was still held tight and brought even closer to the Qunari's scared, stoic face.

"RELEASE ME!"

The man snorted then cocked his head to one side. That eye. Anders could have sworn he felt the bloody thing lick the inside of his brain searching for something. There was no mistaking this man for a basic street thug.

"Alright." He set Anders down and pulled a phone from his pocket. Anders stood unflinching, waiting for the volley of texts to play out. The printer on the desk behind him hummed to life and began to print.

"There's your written contract. Basically, you live here and help Fenris with school until either he finishes or he marries. Simple." A dark tone punctuated the last word. There was a hint of a threat that asking for anything more wouldn't be a bright idea.

Anders collected the small stack of papers and skimmed through them. All the terms were spelled out just as the Qunari had said with the added provision that Anders was required to maintain his grades to keep the grant he'd earned. Anders noted that the last page had already been signed

"Perditus Vinicius…Magister Vinicius?! He's your boss?" Anders knew little in the way the Magisterium was composed but there were certain names that stood out. House Vinicius was rich in coin and mage blood which translated to powerful.

"That bother you?"

"No." Anders shook his head and found a pen to sign his name to the contract. Racking his brain, he'd searched his memory for any horrible rumors, but could only recall that the Magister was no worse than most men of high rank.

Anders held the contract out but was waved off. "Nah, keep it. Boss doesn't need a copy."

Of course he wouldn't, he had little at stake in this arrangement.

The phone from earlier chimed and the Qunari answered, "Yeah?"

 _"_ _Hey, Dragon. We found Tiny. You want us to bring 'im in?"_

"Naw, naw. Text the address and I'll collect 'im. I have a feeling he'll need to be cleaned up."

 _"_ _He hit it pretty hard last night. He's not going to be in a good mood when he wakes. I'll send the info now."_

"Thanks Krem."

"Your name's Dragon?" Anders bent to retrieve his bundle from where he dropped it.

"Grey skin, big ass horns, totally kick ass in a fight – yeah, the guys call me The Iron Dragon. You should see me do flaming shots."

"Sooo, there's more than just you?" Anders fingered a protruding feather, curious just how extensive the hired muscle was for House Vinicius.

"Yeah, but I'll probably be the only one you ever see." Dragon pocketed his phone and went downstairs.

Anders stood alone until it dawned on him that Dragon was leaving. He rushed to the top of the steps, "Hey! Is-is that it? What do I do now?"

His deep voice answered clear and loud with little effort, "Get ready for school? How the fuck should I know?"

At the sound of a door shutting, Anders finally exhaled, unaware he'd been so tense.

 _I can do this._

With forced confidence he walked back to the room. _His_ room. A large thud somewhere in the house made Anders jump nervously. There was a click, then a low whirring droned on. Anders felt a gentle breeze trickle through his hair. He raised his hand to trace it to the source, a vent in the ceiling. The air was cold. He'd become so accustomed to the sweltering heat that he hadn't even noticed the house had grown warmer from the rising sun. He'd never suffer the heat again, struggling to work through dehydration.

Kneeling by the bed, he gently set his things down. Anders leaned forward to have his head touch the soft bedding. It smelled like soap perfumed with crystal grace. With a trembling hand, he pulled the blankets back and found a mattress. A brand new mattress. No piss stains, no vomit or blood splotches. His hand slipped over his gapping mouth. It was ridiculous to react this way, but all the horrific nights he'd spent sleeping in the slums slammed home all at once, wringing his lungs void of air.

He smothered a sobbing cry with two fists full of blanket.

 _I'm finally doing this._

The ground was moving. It shifted. Fenris brought a hand to his forehead. The world spun.

He rolled over from his back to try and plant his hands into the ground to keep from falling off, but it only made things worse. Everything shifted back and forth, his stomach violently protesting his new state of consciousness.

It felt like an eternity, but eventually he was able to open is eyes. He blinked and rubbed his face, his skin feeling like sandpaper lit on fire.

 _Damn. I can feel again._

A white hot pain lived under his skin, crawling to create an itch he couldn't touch and a razor sharp pain he couldn't escape. As he stood, it felt as if he were wrapped in barbed wire and each movement caused the blades to slice deeper into him.

 _Fucking mages and their fucking lyrium._

The ground moved again, forcing Fenris to grab hold of the nearest thing he could. It was a large helm. Somewhat to his relief he finally registered that he was standing on a boat. That at least explained why the ground swayed beneath him. He wasn't quite as hungover as he thought.

"Tiny, ready to go home?"

Following the sound of the voice, Fenris saw Dragon sitting on a bench. The man was distracted while he used a marker to draw crude genitals on a passed out stranger's face.

Fenris' hand gripped the metal of the helm tighter. "No."

"Your _friends_ seem to have no plans. Besides, you need to sober up for school."

"Do I?"

Dragon shrugged as he capped the marker and returned it to his pocket. Fenris knew this game and he'd unintentionally painted himself into a corner by passing out on a boat. How the fuck did he get here? With no other escape options, since swimming was certainly out of the question, Fenris groaned and made his way over to Dragon. He knew the big bastard would stay there all day if need be, the disadvantage of having someone well paid to keep track of him. There was nothing else that demanded The Dragon's attention.

Fenris walked slowly, hindered by the nude or semi-nude bodies strewn over the deck. He tried to remember the faces, but couldn't. Men and women alike were slumbering the morning away. Happy.

Jealous, Fenris 'accidently' kicked one of them as he neared Dragon.

"Good party?"

"I suppose. Father miss me?" The sarcasm was thick. Perditus never missed his son. He was only ever fetched when there was social obligation and Fenris was required to complete the family ensemble. Verania should have been born first. She was the one who liked the politics.

She was the one who was a mage.

Bitterness made his teeth taste like metal. Or perhaps Fenris had thrown up earlier and that was the source of the lingering taste. Didn't matter. There was somewhere he needed to be and Dragon, as always, was ensuring he made it there.

"I would have thought you'd be a little eager to meet your roommate." Dragon held out a towel.

It was only when Fenris accepted it and felt the fabric brush against him he became aware he was also naked. Lacking any shame, he wrapped the towel around his waist. Dragon ignored his current state, he'd Fenris in worse situations. At least this time Fenris wasn't so sticky that Dragon had to literally peel him off the bodies of two other people.

"Roommate?" Fenris took tender steps down the gangplank, Dragon was nearby to help, but knew better than to touch his bare skin unless absolutely necessary. As gruff as he was at times, he was at least considerate about Fenris' brandings.

"Met the guy this morning, since _you_ weren't there to let him in." In the parking lot, Dragon held the back door open.

Fenris crawled in and flopped down on the Antivan leather seats. He curled his legs in to allow Dragon to shut the door. The car purred as it drove smoothly over the roads. Fenris nearly fell asleep again, but he knew that would only make him feel worse when he woke again. He needed a distraction.

"Dragon, tell me what he's like."

"Tall, taller than you. Blonde."

"Blonde." Fenris turned to his back, thinking of the picture he saw weeks ago. "Fair skin?"

"I suppose, couldn't say for sure. The sun was blinding as it reflected off of him." Fenris gave a dry chuckle, then draped an arm over his eyes to block out said sun. "He looks like someone tried to drown him in flooded dumpster. You may need to give your pet Apostate a bath."

As appetizing as the thought of washing another man sounded, Fenris internally recoiled at the reminder that the man was still a mage. One of the conditions his father had been unwavering about in allowing him to attend medical school despite his notoriously rebellious behavior. It wasn't as though he planned to stop, perhaps slow down, maybe.

They reached their destination sooner than Fenris had thought, Dragon alerting him by slamming on the brakes, tossing him into the floorboards.

" **Vehendis!** You fucking ass!"

Dragon feigned emotional injury as he opened the back passenger door. "Hey, I thought we didn't discuss our sex lives."

With an annoyed grunt, Fenris dislodged himself and stormed past Dragon to head for the house. Two passersby made note of his state of undress. His brands.

"Eat shit, Altus!" Fenris spit into the mangled garden, grabbed at his crotch through the towel.

The Altus immediately took offense, preparing to march up the lawn until his friend pointed out the House crest on Dragon's car. The two men backed off and hurried about their way. He may not be a mage, but his House had power and influence. What did he care for the censure of these piss stains? His future was set for him and it was to be soundly distinguished. And boring.

Even as he thought on the prospect, Fenris rolled his eyes.

When he and Dragon passed the threshold, the bodyguard pointed to the ceiling. "Your room is on the right."

Fenris took the hint and trudged up the steps to find some clothes. He heard the shower running and paused in the hallway. He didn't know why he felt anxious, this man was an Apostate, barely above the Soporatti class and, according to Dragon, poorer than a Chantry mouse. It wouldn't be hard for him to have the street urchin eating out of his hand with some well-placed coin and favors. It wouldn't be difficult to get on amenable terms with the mage.

Once dressed, he rejoined Dragon in the living room. He ran his hand over one of the arm chairs. The fabric was new, but it wasn't embroidered and there was no gold piping. The wall hangings were prints, not originals. "This is the place my father picked?"

He didn't wait for Dragon's answer before he was on the phone and arguing with his father's secretary who refused to transfer him direct to his father. Shouting into the phone didn't change the woman's tone who'd become accustomed to his frequent demands.

Of course this was temporary.

Of course there was concern about parties.

 _"_ _Perhaps if you would consider what Mr. Anders would prefer…"_

Fenris hung up on her. Fuck him and fuck her. Damn House responsibilities. Shoving his phone in his pocket he looked up to find a tall, thin blonde staring at him, his brows drawn in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Fenris snapped at him sharper than he intended. At least he didn't seem taken aback by it. "You going somewhere?"

"A used bookstore nearby, I have a few texts I need to pick up."

Fenris pulled out his phone and scanned his contacts. "Don't bother, I'll simply have the University bookstore double my order so you can have new ones instead."

"No, thank you."

"What?! You can barely clothe yourself. Don't be a fool and accept my generosity." This was absurd. How could this beggar say no? Who says no to money?

Anders' brows narrowed again, but this time he was decidedly angry. "I said no. I can handle this myself. Go buy some furniture with it if these offend you so much."

Avoiding any rebuttal, Anders walked out. Fenris' shock quickly turned to anger as he heard Dragon laughing to himself as he sat on the couch.

He snarled at the bodyguard. "You're not helping."

"Well, that's not my job anymore is it? You wanted to go to school, so you deal with Ragamuffin over there. Have fun with that. As for me…" Dragon rose and scratched his belly as he stretched his back. "I think I'll find some lunch. Good luck."

The Iron Dragon walked down the porch steps and heard something fragile smash against a wall inside. He grinned knowing that was definitively not his problem anymore. He hopped into his car and watched Anders retreating form go down the sidewalk. When he clicked his seatbelt he noticed his chest hugged the strap a little more than it used to. This type of work wasn't as good for staying in shape, things had been quiet recently. He'd need to hit the gym with Krem more.

So, this man wasn't what Fenris expected, not the easily bought company he was accustomed to. Honestly, Anders wasn't what any of them expected. Dragon sighed, then pulled out his phone to hit a speed dial.

"Boss. It's me. I think this Apostate might be trouble. He's going to be difficult to manipulate."

 _"_ _Then we'll have to find his weak spot in case we need to apply pressure. I don't want him ruining this."_

Dragon scratched at the stubble along his jaw. "It's not going to be easy. No money, no family and just found out he won't be bribed. He's got nothing to lose."

 _"_ _But I know you. You always manage to work wonders."_

Dragon smiled, a small flame of excitement coursed through him. He liked it when they spoke like this. "I do don't I?" He swapped his playful tone for a business one, "Should I warn Magister Vinicius about the contract?"

 _"_ _No, he doesn't need to know that it exists. Delete the records."_

"Yes, ma'am."


End file.
